Allegra
by The Omniscient Bookseller
Summary: Sometimes life isn't all happy endings...


To hitch a ride on misprint's band wagon….

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Disclaimer

Just in case this is confusing, the Italics are present time, the regular type is memories. I know that's kind of backward, but I didn't want to make the whole story in Italics….

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She sat on the edge of the bunk, staring out the window. She could hear Jack introducing all the others- there had been a new boy at the Distribution Center today. He was young and high-spirited, but a bit overwhelmed by everything. She could hear his high voice clearly.

"Who's that?"

"Oh…" Jack hesitated. "That's Allegra."

So she was Allegra now. That was alright- she didn't really care what the others called her. Or thought about her. In fact, she didn't really care about anything. Not anymore. 

When she had first arrived in New York, thieving and living on the streets, she had been Allie. Allie the fast, Allie the smart, Allie the wary. Then when she'd found the newsies- or rather, when they had found her- she'd received a new name, Secrets. But she was not Secrets anymore, hadn't been for a long time. Secrets was a happy, carefree girl. So maybe she was Allegra. Allegra had a kind of…sadness to it. 

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"She came from Massachusetts, originally. A thief. You know, a street kid."

Allie ducked behind the corner of a building, making sure no one was in sight. She ran a hand back and forth through her short brown hair, then rubbed dirty fingers across her eyes, blinking back angry tears at the grit. Repressing the urge to glance around the corner, she took a deep breath and began.

~~~~~

The vendor looked up sharply, hearing a girl's cries from a nearby ally. They escalated in pitch and volume until could make out the words. 

"Don't touch me! Leave me alone! Stop it!" The girl sprinted out of the ally, glancing wildly over her shoulder. She crashed into his cart, mumbled an apology, and bolted upright again. He caught a glimpse of her face- a bruise spread over her left cheek, her eyes were bright with tears and wide with terror. Her hair and clothing were in disarray. In a split second, she took off into the crowd. Even when he couldn't see her anymore, he could hear her cries.

"Stop it! Leave me alone! Stop-" and they ceased abruptly. The vendor shifted uneasily, but was unwilling to leave his wares. 

~~~~~

Allie crouched behind a wall of crates, breathing hard. The adrenaline hadn't even begun to wear off. She pulled the first of the three apples out from under her shirt, leaning her head back against the wall. The theatrics probably hadn't been necessary, but she enjoyed them. Maybe she'd been an actress in some previous life. Besides, it lessened suspicion. 

Allie finished her food quickly- the longer she kept it, the more likely she would lose it. She walked the streets for a few minutes before focusing on another target. This would be a different kind of theft, much harder and with a much smaller chance of succeeding. At the moment, though, she felt as if she could pull anything off. She approached the man silently, extended a hand. Slowly, she grasped the edge of his wallet, pulled, and-

Suddenly, she was slammed up against a building. Slapped once, twice, three times, bringing tears to her eyes. The man held her, struggling, in one hand, and looked her over. Then he began to laugh, a quiet, harsh sound that sent chills all through her.

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"She joined us pretty soon after she made it to New York. Fell in love with a newsie. Skittery."

She rolled over and stared down at his sleeping form in the bunk below. He looked peaceful- this was the only time she'd ever seen that particular expression on his face. She was….sensitive to him. She felt his touch, heard his words, saw his figure more acutely than that of anyone else. She could sense his presence, even when she didn't see him, and it made her nervous. But she enjoyed it at the same time. With a sigh, she trailed her fingers over the edge of the bunk. 

"Love ya, Skitts."

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"But there was this man…"

"Brooklyn Bridge discovered to be unsafe! Experts say it could fall at any time!" 

She was selling alone on a street corner, and wasn't having much luck. No one believed her improved headlines, and even if they did, they weren't willing to buy a paper. She still had twenty left to sell, and she was getting tired.

"Excuse me, I would like to buy a paper." She looked up, stared him full in the face. He was smiling. Without a word, she dropped her papers and ran, ducking into crowds and buildings, around corners and behind stalls. Anything. She heard his laugh echoing over and over again in her head. Why had he followed her all the way to New York? Why was he everywhere she looked? Why did it matter to him?

~~~~

The force of his blow brought back so many memories. Memories of pain, or horror. Memories of bruises, and scars, and blood. Memories of being slammed into walls, into buildings. Memories of a slow smile and a soft, harsh laugh.

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"Well, one day…" Jack's voice dropped so low that she couldn't hear him if she tried. But it didn't matter. She was remembering.

She leaned her head against Skittery's chest with a sigh. She felt so safe, so content. As if this was everything she'd every lived for. And that might be true. She didn't really care. All she wanted was for this moment to last forever. Pulling her close, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I love you, Secrets." 

Suddenly, she was struck so hard she could barely breathe. And there he was, eyes glinting with madness in the half-light. She turned to run, but he was there, delivering blow after blow. He was everywhere, cutting off any escape, meeting each attempt at retaliation with pain. 

"Please, please," she sobbed, "I'm not ready to die. Not yet. Please!" 

"Really? Alright." He spoke with the most dangerous calm she'd ever heard. His eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them, bloody and afraid. Something glinted with blackness at his belt, as if reflecting the silent darkness of the night. His laugh rang in the stillness, and then the dark swallowed her into its depth. 

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"There's a new boy, and…well…"

"He can have my bunk."

That night, Allegra slept out on the roof, at the mercy of the freezing winds. She would not let anyone sleep in his bed, not now, not ever. If the empty bunk was needed, she could stay here. Not that she slept. She always sat awake long after the others were sleeping, staring out the window in silence. In the morning, she was at the Distribution Center before they had even awoken. She was either in the Lodging House or selling, all the time. Sometimes they would bring her food, but no one ever saw her eat it. She would bring it onto the roof or up to her bunk. She never spoke a word to anyone, except when she was selling or buying papers. She didn't care about the others, barely even registered their presence. She didn't care about anything. Not anymore. Not since the night he'd been killed. 

How long had it been? A year? More? She didn't keep track of the days any longer. There was no reason to. There was no reason to sleep at night, no reason to eat, no reason to get up every morning. 

No reason to live.

Silently, she climbed down the fire escape and into the street. The tears streaming down her face made it difficult to see, but it didn't matter. She began to walk, aimlessly, wandering alley and street alike. 

"I'm ready. I'm ready now." 

A soft, harsh laugh echoed out of the black night.


End file.
